


Of Battles Won And Wars To Come

by fullmoonrisin



Category: American Horror Story, American Horror Story: Apocalypse, American Horror Story: Coven
Genre: #Holyshitisthatagiantsoccermomster?, #apocalypse continued, #timeywimeystuff, F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-17
Updated: 2018-11-20
Packaged: 2019-08-24 16:43:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,213
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16643930
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fullmoonrisin/pseuds/fullmoonrisin
Summary: What if Mallory kept her powers when she saved the world and the coven? Or, the coven learns that the threat of apocalypse is still impending. They have one more war they must win before peace can truly be restored. Post season 8 continuation.





	1. Apocalypse Not

**Author's Note:**

> Mallory kills Michael, frees Madison, and divulges a very important secret to Cordelia.

“Satan has one son, but my sisters are legion, motherfucker!”

There was the sound of a dagger plunging into flesh. 

Someone gasped. 

Someone else screamed.

Those words burned a course through Mallory’s veins almost as electrifying as the surge of new power she could feel coursing through her body. She was finally rising as Cordelia fell, almost feeling the faintest sting in her own chest just before their shared connection forged of the powers of Supremacy became severed by The Sacred Taking. And then they both plunged, one toward her demise, and the other into a watery, black abyss. The power still surged within her like the rays of pure sunshine as she fell…and fell…and fell…

Finally, the inky black darkness began to part and Mallory stepped out into a 2015 Summer afternoon. It was a large departure from what she’d grown used to. The last three years underground had seemed like eons and the heat all but singed her skin while the vibrant greens, blues, and yellows of the season were an enticing distraction. She looked around herself, taking in the familiar scenery of birds, grass, and trees; of children playing, joggers, and dog walkers. She knew this place. She knew this moment.

Bit by bit, Mallory grew aware that someone was calling her name and she noticed for the first time, her high school friends all looking at her with concern.

“Hey, Mal? Where did you go?” Her friend Tess asked, waving a hand in front of her face.

Go.

Mallory’s eyes widened. Visions of her Supreme and her sisters danced across her mind and filled her with determination. If she didn’t finish this it would be the end of her. The end of the coven. The end of days.

With a shake of her head, Mallory answered “sorry guys, I gotta get somewhere.” As she took a fast pace through the sun kissed grass, eyes falling on her nearby SUV as she formed a plan.

\---------------------

“Ma’am!” An impatient, middle-aged woman with a highlight streaked brunette bob stood tapping her foot. Pearls hung about her long neck and clashed oddly with a more casual outfit choice of black tee and jeans. 

“Ma’am!” she tried again, louder.

“Oh, just hold on to your twat, lady. I’ll get to you in a minute.” Madison Montgomery snapped, looking rather harried with dark circles under her eyes as she folded what seemed to be the millionth towel, only to see a man grab for one of the neatly folded piles and toss the towel carelessly into the floor. 

“Hey! Put that back!” She protested lamely, knowing it was futile. The cycle was always the same. Fold, fight with customers, fold, more customers, fold, get zapped, repeat…

Suddenly, Madison felt herself get yanked from behind and the impatient soccer mom with Kate Gosselin hair was in her face, so close she could count the woman’s pores. And then the harpy began to grow as Madison stood frozen in horror. She grew until she was more than twice the blonde’s size; her features morphing into some sort of grotesque monstrosity. Her nostrils flared as she boomed out “GET ME YOUR MANAGER!”

Madison flinched, throwing her hands up in a protective gesture. She peeked from around them as the breath from the woman’s roar began to settle around her.

“O-okay…” She managed a weak stutter. Reflexively, she winced in expectation of a cattle prod to her side as this would normally be the moment, but it never came. The store around her grew silent, and the woman looming over her strunk back to normal size and kneeled to some unseen force. Madison squinted in confusion, looking around at the scenery around her until her eyes fell on a woman.

She had the strangest feeling as if she knew this woman. Probably some new trick. Throw an obsessed fan into her hell just to shake things up and make her forgot where she is. 

“Madison Montgomery?” It was more statement than question. It was clear that this woman knew exactly who she was.

“Who wants to know?” The witch asked, strutting forward a few steps with a casual hand on her hip.

“Someone interested in freeing you from hell.” 

Madison scoffed. “Bitch, do I look stupid to you? No one gets out. No one who’s dead anyway.”

An ominous laughter penetrated the very fabric of their current realm and settled deep in their bones as a certain figure made himself known. “Oh, but she’s right.” Papa Legba spoke as his voice gradually became less distorted. As he manifested between the two girls, the retail back drop of Madison’s personal hell faded away and they were left with only a dark nothingness, permeated with gray fog.

“This girl brought me the most valuable soul in existence.” Papa’s thick creole accent wrapped around the two of them. “For that, she can take anyone she wants. And lucky you. Today is your day. So be quick before I change my mind.”

And with that, the Loa disappeared with the sound of his laughter lingering behind him. Madison wasted no time rushing to Mallory and dropped to her knees, hugging the other woman around her middle.

“Please take me with you!”

\----------------------------------

It was a month after Misty and Madison were brought back and there was a birthday feast to mark the coming of age into adolescence of one of the newer, younger witches in the coven. Mallory had picked at her food all through dinner and she could feel Cordelia’s worried eyes boring into her every once in a while. Even Queenie, who was seated to her right, jabbed lightly at her ribs “Girl you best eat something before she uses concilium on you.” Mallory shook off the concern with a smile, opting to mull over the thoughts rolling around her mind some more. She wondered if she had kept her secret long enough. She knew Miss Cordelia knew more than she let on. There were often times where she could feel the Supreme’s gentle gaze on her, as if trying to work out a puzzle. At the very least she could sense it even if she hadn’t seen anything with her power of sight. Mallory decided that it was time to let the coven know about their next battle.

After dinner, she found Cordelia engrossed in some files in her office. 

“Miss Cordelia?” She knocked slightly, asking for entrance.

Cordelia shot her a motherly, but questioning look and beckoning her inside. “Please, come sit. What’s wrong, Mallory?” Her eyes grew concerned at the other woman’s conflicted disposition.

The younger witch sat for a long moment, chewing her bottom lip as she considered how much to tell the older woman without altering the timeline too far. And then she remembered that the timeline was already severely altered and decided to just say what was on her mind.

“I…don’t know where to start.”

Cordelia let out a deep breath, steepling her hands in front of herself on the desk. She looked far more understanding than Mallory expected. “I see. I’ve been waiting for you to come to me. Why don’t you start at the beginning?”

“Wait? You knew?” 

The Supreme smiled wryly, “Mallory, if you’ll remember I have the gift of Sight. I saw things when you first hugged me that day. And I can sense your power even if the other girls can’t.”

“Right.” Mallory said, feeling a little sheepish that she forgot. “So, what did you see?”

“Horrible things. My girls, dead. Fire and ruin. But I also saw beautiful things. Sisterhood, the way all of you, all of us, fought. I’m proud of you, Mallory.” Cordelia smiled, placing a hand over the other Supreme’s. “I’m proud of all of my girls. The one question I can’t seem to wrap my head around is: how do you still have this power? It’s unprecedented for there to be two Supremes at the same time.”

“Miss Cordelia, I know what you must be thinking, that maybe I have to be the new supreme. But I got my powers from you in a future where you were fading. You killed yourself so that I could be strong enough to come back here and stop Michael.” Cordelia’s eyes widened at the thought of being driven to such desperation. She could only imagine what kind of battle her girls had endured in this thwarted apocalypse that now existed only in Mallory’s memory.

“Tempus Infinituum.” Cordelia spoke resolutely, knowing it would have been the best hope for stopping such a crisis.

Mallory nodded in response. “Only, you weren’t strong enough because I had already started rising.” The headmistress’ eyes fell shut as she allowed herself to dive into Mallory’s memory. She saw the Hawthorn school, no longer a place of magic. A great, but futile, battle. Mallory, bleeding and dying in a tub, and finally, her own demise. 

“So much is unknown about the spell you used. In fact, I’m sure you know you’re the first to succeed, but I’m afraid I still don’t understand how you could have brought the powers of the supreme back with you while I still live.”

“Look closer.” Mallory smiled, closing her eyes and willing visions of Myrtle to the fore front of her mind. Cordelia did so, seeing Myrtle newly resurrected from the flames before the images flowed one after another. Tears sprung to the blonde’s eyes at being allowed even this small glimpse of her surrogate mother again. 

“She knew you’d have some questions I couldn’t answer, so she planted some of her memories into my mind and asked me to give you a message in case I succeeded. She foresaw the need for two supremes across two timelines for a bigger battle.”

Cordelia bowed her head in understanding. They hadn’t ended the threat of apocalypse. In order to truly put an end to it, there would be more enemies to face. And then she considered what might happen when that fight was over

“And what about you?” Cordelia suddenly looked very concerned at the implication. She knew what might happen when this fight was over.

“I’m not the true Supreme. Not of this timeline, anyway.” Mallory shrugged. “You’re meant to be here, Miss Cordelia.”

Cordelia considered that for a moment. It was true, she wasn’t fading, and that had always been the mark of a waning supreme, but so much about this was utterly unprecedented for the coven. “And what if I’m not? That’s my power coursing through you.”

“And I came back into my past body with this power from a future where you had to die. I can’t ascend again.” Mallory observed. “You being the Supreme puts things back the way they’re supposed to be. This just means I can’t be your successor now.”

Cordelia chewed on her lip in thought for several moments. 

“Well, I guess we should get started on our plans.”

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------


	2. The Gathering

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Madison pays a visit to Miss Venable, the coven makes plans, and Mallory bonds with a young witch.

2016

Miss Wilhelmina Venable was seated at her desk in the office of Kineros Robotics, typing away feverishly at the computer. There were numbers to put in, calendars to manage, business appointments to book, leisure activities to arrange. Yes, the life of a secretary as dedicated as she was an unforgiving one.   
Especially when she had to pick up the slack for the lack luster security personnel downstairs. An older, rich, gentleman in a fine suit had been ranting at her for several minutes now. She paid him no mind, hoping he might take the hint and leave. It appeared that was not to be.

“I’m sorry. Were you saying something?” Venable looked up over the top of her glasses, addressing him for the first time since he’d arrived.

“I have to see them!” The nameless man demanded again. 

“Well, you didn’t bother to make an appointment. And you have no package for delivery”, Observed Venable, her eyes flitting down to his empty hands hanging at his sides. “Clearly whatever miniscule issue you may have can wait. Mr. Nutter and Mr. Pfister are very busy, important men.” Her voice took on a mocking, baby talk quality. “But you wouldn’t understand that with all us little people doing all the dirty work, would you? Tell me: how much does your assistant get paid to wipe your behind?”

The man seethed for a good while. There was a retort caught somewhere in his throat that just couldn’t make its way to the surface, but she had his number down. In the end, he decided to settle for a furious growl as he turned on his heel and stomped proudly out the door.

“Woah! Nice one, Ms. Venable!” Jeff’s voice chimed from the monitor to the left of her desk where he’d been listening in on the tail end of a sick burn. “Now could you come in here a sec? please? Babe?” Jeff’s face got closer and closer to the monitor until she could only see his nostrils while Mutt chimed in from the background as she stood, barely concealing a glower behind a dangerously fake smile. “You’re the best, Mina! We love you!” She felt her eye twitch as her cane tapped all the hall.

“You know,” she began, climbing down the white steps into the sunken floor space of Jeff and Mutt’s shared office space, “I certainly think I should be getting paid more if I’m expected to do the job for those worthless buffoons masquerading as security on top of my regular work. Don’t you? Or perhaps a business partnership? Need I remind you, I helped found this company almost as much as you did. ” She smiled sweetly, setting down a bowl of powdery white ambrosia on the table for her boss’ daily binge.

Jeff took a long snort of the stuff as his partner buried his face straight into the bowl. 

“As it happens, Ms. Venable, there is something you might be able to help us with.” He brought his hand up to the side of his mouth and dropped his voice to a whisper, “but it’s very hush hush.”

“The public?” Mutt chimed gesturing zipped lips at her “Can’t know.”

Ms. Venable was intrigued. She hadn’t expected getting more sway in the company to be so easy, but also, she wondered as to what this big secret was. She was quickly brought back to her current reality before she could let her thoughts stray too far. 

“Oh, and babe, about our 6’ o clock flight to Shanghai, could you arrange strippers on the private jet?” Jeff asked

“All blondes, no Asians, nothing smaller than a C cup.”, added Mutt.

Miss Venable’s smile turned more insidious. “Of course, gentlemen.” And as she turned to walk away she added, “It’s the strangest thing: I don’t recall putting ‘babe’ or ‘Mina’ down next to where it says name on any official work documentation.” 

As the more sober of the two, Mutt seemed at least vaguely remorseful and was able to pull himself back to reality a little bit. “Point taken, Miss Venable.”

With that, the red head strutted back to her desk only to find a certain blonde witch waiting for her. She rolled her eyes. Christ, these security guards would be the death of her. “Oh good, another movie star.” She cooed, “And just in time for the morning coke binge.” With a click of her tongue to punctuate that statement, she took a seat. “I know you won’t leave if I tell you so entertain me; what could possibly be so important that you can show up without an appointment?”

Madison chuckled, “Stupid bitch. I’m not here to talk to some nerds with bad hair. I’m here for you.”

“Oh?” Venable asked, intrigued and defensive. “And what could I possibly have that you want?”

“Insider information.” The witch replied simply, placing the other woman under concilium as she spoke. “You’re dip shit bosses are gonna join a bunch of Satan groupies called The Collective. You’re gonna wait until that happens, and then give me and my sisters access to every single person who made the cut into the cult club.”

“Of course, but why start here?” The red head asked “Surely there are more direct means.”

Madison simply shrugged. “True, but this company’s our only lead, Babe.” She winked and reached out to pinch one of Venable’s cheeks. “So be a doll and get with the program.”

“Yes ma’am.”

Madison smiled rather deviously. “Good.” On the way out, she could hear the faintest tones of speech from a radio playing in a nearby office.

“Hi! I’m Anton LaVey. Are you not where you want to be in life? Do you feel forgotten by God? Do you feel as if you’re the only one who knows that people are naturally rotten? The Church of Satan could be for you! Join us as we strive to remake the world in the image of our lord and savior!”

Madison shook her head in mild amusement.

“We’re coming for you, fucker.”

\------------------------

“Wait,” Zoe spoke, “So why don’t we just take out the Church of Satan and be done with it? I mean, why go through so much trouble?”

The witches of Robichaux were all seated in the ancestry room discussing a battle plan to prevent the newest threat. Mallory had properly filled her sisters in on the altered future she had come from and after a round or two of questions, they got down to the business of drawing the battle lines.

“They’ll be expecting it.” Cordelia answered simply. “Satan and witches are natural enemies, just as voodooists share a somewhat contentious relationship with the devil. In fact, some of the colonists crying for our blood during the Salem Witch Trials were Satan Worshippers masquerading as God fearing folk.” 

Cordelia took the time to look around at each of her girls. “We have the advantage of knowledge, and even power, on our side, girls. But, make no mistake, this will be dangerous. The devil won’t let us win without a fight. He wants his Armageddon. The smarter we act, the better.”

“Better to get rid of the army before we go after the king.” One of the newer girls, Olivia, who was very reminiscent of a younger Zoe Benson spoke. This girl in particular had a keen mind for strategy that had not gone unnoticed by her Supreme, in addition to a variety of other powerful magical assets. She would prove to be especially useful.

“Yes exactly.”

“But what’s the point of all this, though?” Queenie wondered, looking at Mallory, “I mean…you already killed the antichrist. Another one will just come later.” 

“That’s true.” Mallory nodded, “but Michael was always like a child being led around by the hand. He retained a sliver of humanity, however small. If we eliminate the church, the illuminati, any of the organizations Satan uses to influence our world, then there’s a good chance the antichrist never accomplishes his mission.”

“Well said.” Cordelia agreed. “This is a plan that’s going to take preparation.” She addressed the room once more. “We won’t act tomorrow, or next week, but we will act. I don’t want any of you who are newer to this coven to feel afraid. We will make damn sure that we’re ready. I won’t put any of you at unnecessary risk.”  
She met each and every one of their gazes and there was a chorus of “Yes Cordelia”. She offered them one last smile and stood to adjourn their evening gathering. 

“Good, now I want you girls to head upstairs and study, alright?” 

As the girls went their separate ways for the evening, Cordelia turned her attention to the foyer, where she sensed two familiar presences. Her eyes lit up at seeing Stevie Nicks following in Kyle’s footsteps.

“Stevie!”

The white witch reached out to wrap her arms around the Supreme.

“Hey girl. How have you been? Taking care of yourself, I hope?”

Cordelia simply smiled at the concerned question and then looked around, brows furrowed. 

“Where’s Misty?” And just as she asked, the swamp witch stepped into the room from the foyer, looking every bit as wild and ethereal as ever. The Supreme had to take a moment to remember to breathe. They only briefly saw one another after Nan had brought her back before Cordelia insisted she take a vacation with Stevie to cleanse herself of the rot from hell. In that month that she’d been gone, Cordelia had become half convinced that the entire fact of her release from hell had been a desperate dream.

On her end, Misty appeared just as enthralled, expecting Cordelia to be some sort of mirage that would vanish if she wasn’t careful. She stuttered, stumbling over her words for several seconds before finally shaking her head and striding toward the older woman. They wrapped their arms around each other as tightly as either could manage and Cordelia could scarcely keep herself from crying into the crook of Misty’s neck, though she didn’t really want to stop.

In the meantime, Stevie had made herself comfortable at the grand piano on the other side of the room and began to play her song “Gypsy” in the style of a slow ballad.

Cordelia pulled back to look at Misty, her hands coming up to wipe the tears from the swamp witch’s face even as her own tears blazed watery paths down her own face.

“My dearest Misty.” She whimpered in a voice that hardly sounded worthy of her mantle. There was so much to say between them. So much to say, and yet, not enough time in the world to say it all. 

Misty gave a tearful laugh and they pulled each other back into the embrace. It was easy to get lost in the notes of Stevie’s siren song as they held each other. The perfect compliment to the mixture of emotions and the mingling sensations between them. Misty could feel a year’s worth of relief falling off of Cordelia while they continued to hug, swaying on the spot. She’d dreamed of this so many times in hell, but never once was it as sweet as the real thing. Misty could happily live in this embrace with her Stevie serenading them in the background.

Again, Cordelia pulled back to look at her. To feel her, and make sure she was actually real and there with her. Misty opened her mouth to speak but realized there were no words needed between them, and soon their lips met in a union that must have been forged in divinity.

She really was home.

\------------------------------------------------

“Hey Mallory?” Olivia asked, taking a break from reading to talk to her roommate.

“Hm?” 

“What does ascension feel like?” 

Mallory sat up on the bed to give the girl her full attention. “Why ask me?” 

The girl grew timid, mumbling an apology as Mallory quickly back pedaled. “It’s okay. I was just curious why you never asked Cordelia. That’s all.”

Olivia flipped another page in the history book, landing on an entry about the axeman and the coven of the early 1900s. “I guess it’s just that she intimidates me a little, pretty much being royalty and all.”

Mallory hummed in agreement. “But you know there’s not a kinder person out there, right? You can go to her for anything and she won’t hesitate to help however she can.” She smiled, seeing that her words had allayed the young witch’s anxiety. 

“To answer your question, Ascension feels like riding on lightning. That’s the best way I know how to put it.” Olivia watched the smile slip off of Mallory’s face and a more grim expression take hold. 

“But it’s not all good.” She remembered Cordelia’s sacrifice. It was something that still haunted her even a month after she’d brought the entire coven back. The way of the supremacy was rather harsh in that respect. An entire coven forced to mourn a fallen sister as they celebrate the rise of another. She truly meant it when she said didn’t want to rise if Cordelia had to fall. 

Olivia had sensed her brooding mood and again attempted to apologize, but Mallory would have none of it.

“It’s okay.” She smiled, “You really don’t have to apologize so much. Let your voice be heard, even if it upsets someone, and if it does, then you can apologize. You are a gifted witch with a lot of potential.”

This brightened the girl’s spirits and she stepped over to hug Mallory. Mallory had heard that this young ten year old was an orphan. She wagered that the girl was rather starved for affection and couldn’t help but feel a sort of parental attachment to her since her arrival at the academy. She wrapped her arms around the girl and lifted her up, placing Olivia onto her own bed. 

“I think that’s enough reading for tonight. You should rest.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is it for number 2! Thanks again for reading! Please feel free to hit that comment button!


	3. Confessionals

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zoe, Queenie, Madison, and Misty spend some bonding time together while Cordelia and Mallory nurture a young witch. A mysterious figure appears.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this chapter marks the start of some ongoing scenes that are gonna seem super random. I wanted to have a collection of scenes that don't appear to actually be part of the story in between the coven scenes. These parts will eventually make sense, they aren't entirely random.

Deep in the beating heart of Las Vegas, known the world over as Sin City, the pulse of erotic decadence throbbed a beating cadence and brought life to a metropolis that never sleeps. The sounds of slot machines created an inviting symphony on casino floors, drinks flowed freely, and tourists wandered the strip juggling souvenirs with oversized containers of alcohol while street performers peddled for cash. In the midst of this thrum of activity, a man forged his way through the throngs on the sidewalk, bypassing all distractions. He was a tall man with dark hair and handsome features. One would think of him almost as an angel, were it not for the blood coating his clothes and face. 

He was ignored by the jaded passersby. In Vegas, crazy was more than expected; it was law. The people here were used to the unusual and so a bloody man on the sidewalk didn’t seem particularly out of the ordinary. And so, he trekked on, undisturbed, his legs carrying him for what seemed like an eternity past several of the landmark hotels and attractions along the strip. He ducked down a side street and continued walking until he came to a large, gothic cathedral. It’s stained glass murals and over sized doors were at once intimidating and inviting to him. With a shuddering breath, he stepped forward.

“Father forgive me for I have sinned.” Tears leaked down his face and he began to tremble in shame. For as long as he could remember he had been this way, but he wanted so desperately to stop, to be better. He only hoped with a little guidance and support that he could be.

“And what is your transgression, my child?” The kindly old priest asked. He had a gentle face with white balding hair and cherubic cheeks. He carried himself as the kind of person one felt an easy trust with. And indeed, he was a favorite among the Vegas Catholic community; an understanding soul.

“I’ve hurt people.” The man began to sob.

“And what is your name?”

“Devan Campbell.”

“Tell me about your sins, Devan. When did you last hurt someone?” The father leaned a little closer to the divider that separated them.

“Today.” Devan answered, and the father glanced over in curiosity, jumping slightly at the sight of fresh blood. He calmed himself, sensing that before him sat a soul in need of guidance. Such a terribly tortured soul. The father couldn’t help but wonder what burdens he must carry.

“Describe the incident.”

\---------------------------------

“Jesus!” Zoe exclaimed “Slow down before you choke to death and die again, guys.”

The four remaining witches from their incarnation of the coven were seated on the patio of a quaint little Cajun restaurant. It was far enough off Bourbon Street not to be swamped with too many tourists, yet close enough for the food to be it’s own special wonder.

“We can’t help it.” Misty twanged around a mouth full of a po’ boy. “There’s no food in hell.”

Madison moaned her agreement, savoring the taste of fried gator before washing it down with a hurricane. “What she said.”

“You guys have been back for a month.” Queenie observed, and Madison’s eyes all but watered at the taste of another bite of Louisiana cuisine that may as well of been the finest ambrosia. “I guess the high hasn’t worn off yet.” She smirked.

Queenie dismissed the comment and turned her attention back to the menu. “Whatever.” She scanned the items for a moment. “I’m gonna get some frog legs! Who wants to split a basket with me?”

“No!” Misty shouted suddenly, causing everyone at the table to freeze and turn to her in shock. “No!” She shook her head. “No frogs.” Zoe and Queenie were equally surprised to see tears forming at the corners of the swamp witch’s eyes as she held herself back from bursting into tears. Hell had truly been a traumatic experience and every day she’d experienced something that reminded her in some small way. Madison didn’t need to be clairvoyant to understand the outburst. If she never saw another towel again, she’d be quite happy. She shocked the peanut gallery as she showed unprecedented empathy and understanding to the woman she had endlessly ridiculed and locked in a tomb. 

“Hey, Misty…” The witch calmed at the feeling of the starlet’s uncharacteristically gentle hand on her shoulder. “You’re safe. This is the real world. And these hurricanes aren’t gonna drink themselves.”

“What the hell happened to you guys?” Zoe whispered, bemused at Madison’s softer demeanor.

“Hell.” Madison answered ironically. “It’s a bitch.” She was being sarcastic, but there was a hint of a disappointed frown that had often shown whenever they broached this subject. They would never remember what she’d done for the coven no matter how many blanks she or Mallory filled in for them. Since that evil Ken doll knocked her off before time was erased, she was left able to remember everything. But to them, she was the same stone cold bitch she’d been before her little vacation to Chateau DeVil. She put a fresh cigarette between her lips and sighed. She would have to prove herself to more than just Misty.

Queenie took a sip from her straw and aked “So what DID happen to you? She loses her shit over frogs. What about you?” 

Madison paled slightly, remembering the thousands of times she had been tased, folding towel after towel, endless lines of angry customers, the soccer mom literally from hell…

“Let’s just say I don’t plan on going to Walmart any time soon.” Madison snarked, but left something else unsaid. Every witch at the table had been through the trial of Descensum. They all knew the horrors of their own personal hells, but it wasn’t just about torture. There was an emptiness; a loneliness. A feeling of being isolated and never being happy, or even able to pursue one’s own desires, that was utterly terrible. And only Madison and Misty knew that feeling so thoroughly. Both would’ve liked to be able to forget it, but it had become irrevocably ingrained in their souls.

“Anyway,” The starlet finished, popping a french fry into her mouth, “I’d like to see you bitches spend a year in hell and see if that shit doesn’t change you.”

Zoe and Queenie both sat silent, unnerved at even imagining half of what their sisters had experienced. Madison grew bored of the silence and turned her attention to her roommate. “So, how are you and frankenkyle since he killed me?” It was a casual comment that normally would’ve been meant to stir up drama, but in this instance, Madison was genuinely curious. She didn’t see much of Kyle in the future but remembered that there seemed to be a distance between the two.

Zoe’s eyes were downcast and sullen suddenly. “Not good. After we found out he killed you I…I don’t know.” Zoe appeared deeply conflicted. Misty reached across the table and laid a supportive hand on top of her own. She still loved Kyle; deeply, but she felt that love at war with her duty to the coven.

“Wait…you knew? Why is he still here?” Madison fumed, insulted that he hadn’t been burned for harming a witch.

“It ain’t like that, girl.” Queenie tried.

“What? You mean like you leaving me in hell while my killer walks around serving tea?” She stood abruptly, pushing the table in a small burst of telekinetic energy.

“You let me die!” Zoe yelled. “You knew what it was like and you refused to bring me back!” And suddenly, it wasn’t Zoe standing before her, but Kyle, and she floated on a river of memory back to another place and time to the last time she heard those exact words. Her anger deflated instantly as she realized why they left her in hell that first time around. The two calmed, but continued to square off like that for a while, breathing heavily with emotion as hands clench into fists. No one dared make a move for fear of inciting the fight anew. 

Misty attempted to soothe the tension.

“Miss Fiona fixed him, but from what I remember he was still really unstable back then.” The memory of her precious 8-track smashed to pieces as Stevie’s voice wilted away still haunted her.

“She’s right.” Queenie nodded. “Cordelia thought about burning him, but it wasn’t fair since he was still a little crazy….and she tried to bring you back.”   
Madison’s eyes widened. “She did?”

“Yes.” Zoe nodded. “By the time we knew you were dead, you’re soul had already left this plane. Just like Misty.”

Madison deflated back into her seat with the new information and stared tiredly at her empty cup. Just maybe they didn’t see her as just a bitch.

“I need a drink.”

\---------------------------------------

In the halls of Miss Robichaux’s Academy, Cordelia stood reflecting on recent events at Myrtle’s portrait, hung proudly where she could watch over the coven much as she had in life. It had been an eventful few months and the supreme needed a moment to process it all. She wondered what both of her mothers would say if they could see her now. However they had hated each other, both women had agreed in the end that Cordelia would amount to something far greater than they could imagine, and she felt the weight of that expectation on her shoulders every day. Even as they were pulled back with pride.

Slowly, she became aware of another presence in the room. Watching. It was power just like hers.

Mallory.

The other Supreme stepped up next to her and also looked reverently up at Myrtle’s portrait.

“I come here sometimes when I have a lot on my mind.” She smiled warmly “It’s almost as if I can hear her voice; her wisdom.”

Mallory gazed over at Cordelia; her mentor, her mother figure, her martyr. She thought about all they’d been through in the future that no longer existed and all Myrtle had taught her in that same future. 

“She’d be proud of you, you know.” Cordelia tore her eyes away from the picture to look at Mallory. “I mean..she was proud of you. Where I came from”

They lingered for a moment more and then Mallory remembered what she’d come for. 

“There’s something you should see, Miss Cordelia.” She smiled.

Interest piqued, Cordelia followed Mallory to the bathroom doorway and looked inside. Olivia was hunched over the bath tub looking into the murky depths of water. It was a more advanced divination practice and Cordelia was both shocked and delighted to see the display from such a young girl. 

Olivia was looking through the waters at a man and a woman standing together. It startled her when her supreme appeared in the water behind them and she spun around before immediately trying to pull the drain plug while profusely apologizing.

“I’m so sorry Miss Cordelia! I didn’t—”

“Shh. No…no!” Cordelia reached for her hands to keep her from draining the water and spoke gently. “Don’t ever apologize for your abilities, Olivia.” The girl relaxed as Cordelia knelt so they were closer to eye level. “What did you see?” She frowned as the young witch cast her eyes downward and mumbled an answer.

“I saw my parents.”

It pained her heart to see the orphan longing so for the parental love she had lost. In some small way, Cordelia related. She had never really known her own father and had spent much of her life wishing that Fiona could be a better mother. Despite herself, she offered a kind smile. “Well I see your divination has come a long way. Would you like to help me with a spell?”

Olivia’s eyes lit up instantly and she happily acquiesced as she was led out of the bathroom. She was thrilled with the thought that the Supreme herself had singled her out for help with anything. Since her parents died, she’d never been treated as worth anything. Always passed around like a hot potato from orphanage to orphanage, called a freak and cast out for her powers with no understanding as to why. Maybe…just maybe this school would finally be her home.

Cordelia led both Mallory and Olivia down the hallway to the altar space in her bedroom. Both of them marveled at the mixture of grandeur and simplicity in the room. A perfect mixture of Cordelia’s essence. It was warm and inviting and yet it was stately and held a status that the smaller bedrooms lacked. Mallory watched intently as Cordelia gathered necessary items for the spell. This would be a learning experience for her too. When she had ascended, it had been because she was powerful enough, but the apocalypse had forced her wiccan education into something of a back seat. When it came to magical knowledge, she was truly out classed by Cordelia. Not to mention damn glad she didn’t actually have to replace her.

“What are we divining for, Miss Cordelia?” Olivia was curious.

The Supreme shot her a wry smile, “We’re going to find a lead on our enemies…using your memories, Mallory.”

“But if she already knows then why don’t we just ask?”

“That’s not quite what I mean.” Cordelia chuckled kindly, “We’re going to use Mallory’s memories to divine information even she doesn’t know. It’s very tricky. Are you sure you’re up for it?” She winked at the ten year old. The girl suddenly gained a seriousness that aged her almost ten years; determined to succeed in helping the coven.

“I’m ready.”

\---------------------------------------------  
There was an eerie silence cast over the old stone halls of the church. It was pierced only by slow footsteps as they traced a measured path down golden, torch lit halls. They belonged to a dark figure. As he walked, he left a trail of blood in his wake. There was another trail of blood laid out a head of him that he followed like an animal on the scent of pray. The man stalked; past closets, and quarters, down into the main hall way. He stopped outside the chapel and tilted his head to survey a bloody hand print on the large oak double doors leading into the chapel. A devilish smile grew on his dark features and he forged on. His pray was laid out for him like a sacrifice on the altar at the front of the chapel and his pace quickened slightly with anticipation. 

TAP…

TAP…

TAP…

He stepped, earnestly, yet leisurely, giving his victim time to ponder his impending fate. The kindly old father began to pray as he drew closer. For safety?   
Repentance? For his killer’s soul? He didn’t know, but he knew those prayers would be useless.

“It’s no use, Father.”

Even in his weakened state the Father still showed defiance. Prayers continued to flow from his lips and he stopped only to address the demon before him.

“You assume I’m praying for my life, Lucifer.” The evil man balked at the title “I know you’ll take me, but I cannot allow you to have his soul.” 

He regained his footing and grabbed the priest, hauling him up off the ground by one hand. “And what will you do to stop me?” Came a demonic voice from his human body. 

The dying father was unshaken, looking deep in the eyes of the demon down to the speck of soul he could find in those black depths. He smiled warmly, remembering the scared, remorseful, good man he once met.

“I don’t have to do anything. As long as there is a shred of humanity left in this world, you will fail.”

\-------------

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for sticking around for chapter 3! Stay tuned!


	4. Devil's Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Madison and Misty cope with their experiences and the coven prepares for Halloween.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I had the thought that what if Cordelia's powers of sight might actually give her the ability to sporadically "remember" bits of the erased future in a weird way. Also, I hope to bring Venable back next chapter, and hopefully murder house and hotel characters can play a role in this in future chapters. Anyway, carry on!

“No!” Misty thrashed, whipping her head about on the pillows. “Please….please, no!” Her hands clawed at the bed sheets. Her sleeping body desperately clung to any semblance of safety from the torment created by her mind.

“Mr. Kingery! She did it again!”

The swamp witch whimpered, unable to stop what she knew would come next. She was back in middle school. 

The stench of formaldehyde hung heavy like a cloak above the classroom, coating her nose and raising bile in the back of her throat. 

“If you won’t dissect a dead one, you will dissect a live one.” Her middle school biology teacher had been a stern man, but this version that was her constant companion in hell was an utter perversion. He was harsh, unforgiving, and cruel. There was almost a delight with which he forced her to cut into the beating heart of that poor little frog. Over, and over, and over…

It was the most awful thing she could imagine, but at least in hell it was always the same frog. In her worst nightmares, the cruel cycle would morph into something even worse.

Misty sobbed even harder and thrashed more wildly as the frog suddenly changed into her sisters. One by one, she was forced to plunge the scalpel into her sister witches as they screamed.

Madison…Zoe…Queenie…Mallory…

And then the worst happened. 

The teacher grabbed her hands and, horrified, she looked down at the cadaver to find that it was Cordelia.

“Please stop!” sobbed Misty.

The scalpel inched closer and closer to her chest, and just as it began to cut, her Supreme’s eyes opened.

“Misty, wake up!”

“It’s just a dream!” Shouted her teacher. And then the class broke out into a mantra of her name, whispered in a strange cacophony.

“Misty, please…” 

Cordelia’s voice broke through the fog of her nightmare and the horrific scene around her gave away to the darkness of the room around her as she gasped back into consciousness. She was immediately aware of the older woman’s touch. Her hands roamed: holding the back of Misty’s head, her cheeks, and finally circling her in a protective embrace as she whispered comforting words. The feeling of a comforting aura shrouded over her and she reveled in the strong scent of Cordelia’s chamomile soap, dancing around the pair of them. Cordelia continued to sooth, scooting across the bed and all but pulling Misty to lay in her lap as she rocked gently. She shuddered to think what terrible images Misty’s mind had conjured. 

This wasn’t the first time Misty had started screaming in her sleep. She had woken some of the girls a hand full of times since her return from Stevie’s care, Before essentially moving into the Supreme’s bedroom, Cordelia and the others would check on her in the night only to find Madison consoling her, though the starlet would deny it in the morning. Tonight was the first night in a while for this to happen. The screams took Cordelia by surprise as she struggled to break free of the shackles of sleep, and they down right terrified her when they suddenly changed in intensity.

Like clockwork, there was a knock on the door. The person on the other side didn’t wait for an answer.  
“Hey, Cordy,” It was Madison. Her words were impolite and yet something in her tone betrayed worry and a slight edge of sleepiness. “Keep it down in there, will you? Half the house is awake.” 

Cordelia bristled a bit at her choice of words. She could do without a house full of teenagers all but assuming something decidedly more adult was happening in her bedroom tonight. Not that she had any illusions about their assumptions, at any rate.

“Thank you, Madison.” Cordelia called. “Go back to bed.”

Out in the hallway, the girls soon lost interest and headed of to bed. Madison lingered a moment longer, sparing one last concerned look at Cordelia’s closed door before she sauntered off back to her shared bedroom with Zoe.   
The witch in question was sitting up in her bed, having also been stirred by the noise.

“That was kind of you.” Zoe spoke softly. 

Madison spared her a look, considering what to do with that statement. Zoe should’ve known she didn’t do emotional well. 

She shrugged off the comment and her mattress creaked as she sat, putting her face in her hands and trying to ward off her own images of hell. Zoe watched inquisitively feeling a need to say or do something, but at a loss for both.

“I’m sorry about earlier.” Zoe finally said. She hadn’t set out to say it, but once it was floating in the air between them, she realized it was true. She’d been at least a little inconsiderate of Madison’s experience, only seeing her as the same girl that let her die over a petty love triangle. But she realized something somewhere between lunch and Misty’s nightmare. Hell had taken a much bigger toll than the blonde affected, even though she freely admitted that it sucked.

Madison huffed. As far as Zoe knew, she didn’t really deserve that apology. She truly had been a bitch the last time around, but as they say, the third time’s the charm.

“I’m sorry I wouldn’t revive you and tried to steal your boyfriend.” Madison flashed a somewhat self-depracating smile and quickly dropped her head back in her hands. God she needed a cigarette. What a time to run out. 

Even in the dark, Zoe could see how the witch’s body tensed with stress and a myriad of other knotted emotions.   
Madison looked up in surprise when she felt something brush against her hand. It was Zoe offering a cigarette.

“Oh thank Christ!” She yanked it roughly from Zoe’s outstretched hand and lit it in what seemed like a split second. The tobacco ran through her veins, calming her in a way nothing else could.

“When did you start smoking, anyway?” She wondered after a minute or two.

“I don’t.” Zoe stated simply, offering no further explanation. Madison briefly squinted at her before dropping the question.

“Maybe it’s not my business, but you seem even more…troubled…than usual these last few weeks.” 

Madison knew exactly what Zoe was referring to. That nagging feeling as if she’d finally found her place—her worth—in the coven, only to have it yanked away so that no one but Mallory could remember her as a hero. And then the prospect that she had another shot to do good by her sisters so that they would remember. The two feelings constantly warred in the pit of her stomach. Before, she would’ve gone on a bender of sex, booze, and drugs to escape this sense of drowning, but those things seemed to have lost their appeal. She settled for focusing on Misty’s trauma. Anything to take her away from herself. Her bad bitch witch cred was surely being damaged by her emerging softness, but she’d been through enough to find that it wasn’t all that important. If she had it to do over again, she’d have her head blown up a thousand times before going back to that shallow existence she used to inhabit. Not to say she wasn’t still a stone cold bitch, thank you very much. She still had it. But she knew now that she could be more than what people projected onto her.

“Time moves differently down there, or wherever hell is, did you know that?” Madison exhaled a long drag and it plumed around her head to cast the starlet in an ethereal halo.

“No.” Zoe was unsure where this was going.

“When she came to get me, I knew her.” She was referring to Mallory and suddenly Zoe understood what was happening. Her mouth opened in a silent ‘oh’ as Madison kept talking. “I didn’t know it, at first. When you die, your memory dies too…at least for a bit.” She took another drag, as Zoe nodded. That much she did know. It had taken a moment to get her bearings after she was revived. “But I remember everything now.”

“Tell me.” Zoe said, moving the short distance across the room and sitting herself down next to Madison. For the first time that she could remember, the sassy witch looked truly pitiful. It tugged at her heart in an odd way considering their contentious history. “What happened?”

“The apocalypse.” Madison scoffed, trying for her usual dry humor and missing the mark by quite a stretch. “Pretty much everything you heard from Misty Jr.”

“Oh, shit. They brought you back…” 

“Yep.” Madison smirked dryly, “who knew I’d come back and outlive all you bitches just to get my head blown up again?”

“So the coven…?”

Madison made an explosion noise and mimed a mushroom cloud with her hands. “It was just Me, Cordy, that red headed cousin it,…Mallory. Another witch you haven’t met yet.”

Understanding was slowly dawning on Zoe and she reflected on Madison’s behavior since her return. “It bothers you, doesn’t it? Coming back here where no one remembers.”

“Why would it bother me?” Madison asked, flashing her pearly white veneers in a cocky smile. Zoe saw through the façade and understood the statement for what it was; an affirmation. Zoe offered a small smile, giving Madison a friendly touch to her shoulder as she stood. 

“It’s late. You should try to get some sleep for a change.”

A few doors down on the other end of the hall, Cordelia had calmed Misty and sat next to her, patiently waiting for the swamp witch to open up about her dream. The Cajun had left the comfort of Cordelia’s embrace and sat huddled around herself, rocking slightly back and forth. Cordelia hadn’t moved far, their shoulders still touching. There’d been enough time and distance between them that despite the obvious feelings they shared, the still questioned if it was her place to pry into those deeply personal places of Misty’s mind.

“Can you tell me somethin’, please?” Misty asked, her voice small and afraid “I can’t bear to be in my thoughts.” 

She leaned closer into Cordelia, clinging to her nightgown like a small child. It caused a horrible pain in Cordelia’s heart unlike anything she’d felt before. She wanted to take Misty’s pain and banish it to the farthest reaches; make it hers, even. 

“What do you need?” She pulled Misty closer, bringing a hand up to cup her head. Her lips ghosted protectively along the crown of messy blonde curls.

“I need your voice.” Misty croaked, her throat tired from her screams and sobs. “I need you.”

“I’m not going anywhere. I’m right here.” Cordelia shushed as Misty’s sobs picked up again. “It’s okay. I’m here. You’re safe.”

Cordelia began to hum one of Myrtle’s old favorites. Almost immediately, Misty began to calm, sniffling every once in a while. As she hummed softly, the Supreme stretched her powers to offer comfort to her swamp witch. Misty closed her eyes and allowed herself to be carried away on the wings of Cordelia’s soft, sweet voice and her soothing powers. She felt herself relaxing, ready to fall knowing that the woman next to her was ready to catch her and lay her down into safety, guided by soft, caring touches and the whispers of barely there kisses to her face and hair. 

“It was awful, Delia.” Misty sniffled about ten minutes later.

“But you came back.” Cordelia soothed. It was almost like she was reminding herself of that at the same time. She took Misty’s face in her hands and pulled her to meet her gaze. “You’re here.” There were tears in both of their eyes, shedding down their faces for time lost, for pain endured, for pain still to be endured.

“But sometimes the dreams are worse than anything I could possibly imagine in hell.” Misty trembled while Cordelia felt her heart break. The horrified expression looking back at her was almost too much for her to take and she swallowed a lump in her own throat.

They fell silent again and rested their foreheads together while Cordelia waited for Misty to say what troubled her.  
“I—I didn’t want to, but he…he made me!” Misty all but burst into tears again, desperately seeking Cordelia’s touch in an effort to keep herself grounded. Cordelia was confused and pulled back only as much as she needed to cast a befuddled glance.

“Who made you? What did you do?”

Misty steeled herself, taking a deep breath. She’d talked about hell so many times already, but that nightmare was far more cruel. 

“The frogs.” She began, cryptically. “They turned into the girls.” Cordelia’s mouth opened in shock. “I had to kill all of them!”

“Oh Misty…” The supreme breathed, pulling her close as the pieces came together. She felt Misty clutch at her back as if she were the only life preserver in a tempestuous ocean of the worst horrors. She clung back just as fiercely and squeezed her eyes shut, trying with all her might to will these haunting images from the younger woman with just her presence. She was alarmed when the body in her arms shook violently with worsening sobs and even more horrified at the broken whisper that came after.

“I had to kill you…”

Without pulling away, Cordelia spoke a calming spell into Misty’s ear, feeling her taught muscles begin to grow limp with released stress. Misty slipped down toward the pillows as Cordelia guided her, stroking over her tear streaked face attentively. She had relaxed, but still she fretted, whispering, “What if I see those awful things again?”  
A tender smile slowly spread across Cordelia’s face, radiating a warmth that Misty couldn’t help but be enthralled by. It felt safe. It felt like home. 

“You won’t.”

She kissed Misty briefly on the lips.

“I’ll make sure of it.”

\----------------------------------------------------

The following afternoon at Robichaux’s found the girls flitting about different parts of the manor in preparation for that day when the veil between worlds lifted and spirits could freely walk the Earth. Halloween had long been a sacred observance to the coven, and as such, there were no classes. The day was traditionally (with the exception of Fiona’s supremacy) spent in observance of their wiccan customs, with an evening gathering in celebration of the witches who came before them. There were also the common traditions like jack o lanterns and handing out candy that the witches liked to participate in. 

It was a sacred day, but also a dangerous one. The Devil sought to claim the night as his own, and with their recent defeat of the antichrist, the witches anticipated a looming threat.

Mallory and Queenie were in the greenhouse placing protective wards in the absence of Cordelia, who had gone to town to meet with Dinah Stevens. 

“You don’t talk about yourself much.” Queenie commented, focusing mentally on placing a protective ward. “What was Halloween like for you?”

Mallory shook her head, “Oh, there was no Halloween. My folks were too religious.”

“You sound like Misty.” Queenie commented, a laugh coloring her good natured tone. 

“I wouldn’t go that far.” Mallory smirked. “At least my family didn’t burn me when they thought I was a devil worshipper. But seriously? I would sneak out sometimes. I never dressed up. Just went out, and pretended I could be someone else for a few hours.”

“But you scored a sweet load of the good candy shit, right?” Joked queenie, eliciting a laugh from the other witch. “But for real though? You ARE someone else, girl. You saved the fuckin’ world.”

Mallory balked at the praise with a bashful smile. She had never been conditioned to think of herself as anyone special, and even now she still felt as if her part in thwarting the apocalypse was small; forced even. 

“I couldn’t have done it without my sisters.” She reached up to high five the hand that Queenie offered.

“Damn straight.”

“Um, guys…” The pair turned to see Zoe wearing a serious expression. “You should see this.” 

From around Zoe stepped a mysterious cloaked figure. The other two women weren’t sure what was going on until the hood lowered to reveal a familiar face.

“What’s up…bitches?”

“Nan?”  
\-----------------------------

“Not that I’m not thrilled to see you again, but what brings you back here, Nan?” Cordelia wondered a while later, having arrived to all the commotion.

“Papa sent me to collect a soul.” Nan stated, rather ominously, and the collected girls all gave various shocked reactions, except for Mallory, Cordelia, and Madison. 

“From the coven?” One of the girls asked nervously, and Nan smiled at her with a wicked gleam. “Is someone gonna die?”

Realization dawned in Cordelia’s eyes as her sight showed her flashes of a future that no longer was. The bargain she made that was still in effect even though the Earth’s clock had been turned back.

“Dinah Stevens.” She whispered. “Why tonight?”

“Papa comes to collect his debts whenever he chooses. And he wants the voodoo queen.” Some of the older coven members shook their heads at Nan’s creepy theatrics while Madison rolled her eyes, impatient. 

“What the fuck does that have to do with us?”

Nan chuckled. “I never said I was here for a witch.”

There was a chorus of groans and faces fell flat at the girl’s sense of humor.

“What the fuck, Nan?” Zoe yelled, indignant. 

Cordelia raised a hand in a commanding gesture to silence the commotion that had broken out among the girls and she regarded the small woman again with unanswered questions in her eyes. “So, then, why are you here?”

“It’s a pit stop. I came to give you a warning.” At that moment, an unnatural darkness settled over the room and Nan pulled her hood up. “The devil is coming tonight, so beware bitches.” Her creepy chuckle rang out among the circle and an ethereal glow emitted from the ground beneath her, casting her hooded face in a demented shadow. The four witches who knew her best put their face in their hand while Cordelia brought her fingers up to rub at the bridge of her nose with an expression on her face that fell somewhere between a grimace and a too-done-to-function sort of smile.

Suddenly, the light came back into the room and Nan was gone.

“Do you think she was serious or just fucking with us?” Madison wondered.

“I’m hoping not to find out, but if she was, we’re ready.” Sighed Cordelia. “You girls finished the wards while I was away, right?”

“Just finished the last ones in the green house.” Queenie answered.

Madison turned, sensing something just over her shoulder and her eyes widened at the sight of a fiery hole forming in the wall, glowing with red, orange, and yellow colors reminiscent of lava.

“Guys, what the fuck is that?” Before she could even get the question out, Cordelia and Mallory were already combining their powers trying to seal it shut.

“Girls! Protection spells!” Yelled Cordelia, teeth gritted in effort.

\----------------------------  
“Ave Satanas!”

“Ave Satanas!” 

“Ave Satanas!”

The chants rung out in a dimly lit stone chamber. Fire lined the cavernous room in candles all the way up the center aisle. It was flanked on either side by rows and of seats which seated black hooded figures all chanting in unison as they brought the mass to an orgy of Satanic devotion. 

A single bearded man stood at the head of the group, with two slain bodies drained of blood at his feet.

“Brothers! Sisters! On this Holiest of nights—Devil’s Night—we offer our Father a bountiful blood sacrifice.” 

A bowl and an athame were passed out and began to make the rounds around the room. With each chant, a person slit their palm gave a blood offering into the bowl.

“But let us give strength to Him. Give your father your devotion in blood, so that he may rise on this night.”

“Ave Satanas!”

“Ave Satanas!”

“Ave Satanas!”

There were more cuts and with each offering, the chants grew louder and louder into a thunderous roar of worship until finally the bowl and athame reached the man at the head of the congregation. He held the bowl above his head and the crowd fell silent, watching with an unnerving intensity as he slit his own palm and dripped it into the bowl. He then turned around and placed the bowl in between the two bodies in the center of a pentagram before turning back to the crowd.

“Hail Satan!”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! I know it's short, but I wanted this chapter to be mostly about exposition to bridge what we know from the finale with some new things. The actual plot will pick up next chapter.


End file.
